


going down, down, down

by wordsofhoney



Category: Dota (Video Games) RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Late Night Conversations, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Orgasm Delay, POV Alternating, POV Johan "N0tail" Sundstein, POV Sébastien "Ceb" Debs, Post-TI9, Road Trips, Romance, Shower Sex, Slice of Life, bottom!N0tail, top!Ceb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23161999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsofhoney/pseuds/wordsofhoney
Summary: People keep joking about the “OG strat”, but taking a break after something as big as winning TI is crucial. But even without playing competitive, it is hard to let go of expectations and look inside yourself. Johan has a plan, though, and he drags Séb along.
Relationships: Sébastien "Ceb" Debs/Johan "N0tail" Sundstein
Comments: 9
Kudos: 5





	1. air

Come with me to Faroes, he said. It will be fun, he said.

Sébastien shivers. He feels like sharp wind is piercing him to the very bones despite several layers of supposedly windproof clothing. Johan is marching about a dozen meters ahead up the hill, unperturbed by anything.

They have arrived yesterday, after Johan persuaded Séb to join him on a trip to childhood place — not that Séb needed much convincing, if he was being honest with himself. He would have followed Johan anywhere, Sahara desert, Alaska, Death Valley, or some obscure Russian village in the middle of nowhere. Faroe Islands weren’t the worst option on the list, if he thought about it.

He thinks longingly about that winery in Southern France. Owners are such a nice old couple, always keeping a bottle or two of their finest for “the boy who plays computer games”. And if Séb restarts their router when he stops by if they complain about the Internet — well, that’s the price you have to pay for a good bottle of Bandol Rouge these days.

Sébastien may or may not have stashed one in his bag after he read about the alcohol situation on the islands online.

Séb sighs, and follows Johan, muddy soil squelching under his feet. They are marching up a long, steep hill. The sky is dark over their heads, heavy clouds hanging so low Sébastien feels they are about to brush his head. The world is monochrome, covered in withered grass in yellow ochre with brownish stones peaking up here and there. Even houses of a small village in the distance follow the palette of browns and greys, not daring to bring a bright stop to the sepia landscape.

Sébastien isn’t even sure, where exactly are they going. Johan mentioned something about a waterfall, but he can’t see any water around, not counting puddles left over by night rain. Séb’s foot slips on a wet rock, and he almost falls, but manages to regain balance in the last second.

At least something his years of dancing are still good for.

Séb looks up to see how far ahead Johan is, and stops in his tracks.

Caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice how they’ve reached the top of the hill. Johan is still ahead of him, standing on the highest point of a cliff that’s overlooking a narrow bay. He’s squinting in the distance, aquiline profile sharp against the background of distant clouds, looking at the horizon, where grey blue waters of the ocean meet the sky. Wind is even stronger here, and it ruffles the short blond hair, causing it to stick out in all directions.

Johan turns around to look as Sébastien, and there’s a smile playing on his lips. He looks relaxed and at peace for the first time since before the TI, and Séb can’t help but smile in return.

— Look, man, there it is! — Johan waves an arm in the general direction of the bay.

Séb squints behind his eyeglasses, and comes closer. 

There _is_ a waterfall. A small river falls down in the ocean, but the strong wind doesn’t allow it to reach the seawater, shattering it on its way down in an explosion of drops.

— Mulafossur, — says Johan, foreign name rolling easily off his tongue, — Beautiful, isn’t it? 

Sébastien stays silent for a moment, before looking at Johan with a small smile.

— It is.

And the waterfall is beautiful too, he thinks, looking back at the bay.

They come further down and sit on a bench someone put closer to the edge of the cliff, ruffled up like two puffins.

— You never told you’re from Faroe Islands. 

— Aah, man, it’s complicated, — Johan blinks rapidly, — I’m, like, not really? My parents are, and my granddad was a Prime Minister here, but…

— Wait-wait-wait, — Sébastien suddenly feels dumb, and he half-turns in his place to face Johan, index finger raised in a questioning gesture, — Your grandfather was a prime minister of Faroe Islands?!

— Yeah, — Johan looks embarrassed as he chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, — It was a long time ago, though, like, in the nineties or sumthin’. I wasn’t even born yet.

Séb quirks an eyebrow, looking unimpressed, but the corners of his mouth twitch.

— Still, could’ve told me you’re all important here. Explains why you’ve decided to go to this pile of rocks all of a sudden.

Johan throws his head back in frustration and groans.

— It’s not _that_, okay? They don’t know me, _nobody_ knows me here, there’s almost _no people_ to know me here, ‘kay? — he looks so agitated, that Séb can feel laughter starting to brew in his chest, — Did you know, that statistically, there are two sheep per person in here? You’re more likely to meet a sheep here, than another human being, yet alone someone who plays some Dotes!

At that, Sébastien bursts laughing. 

— Man, their pubs must _really_ suck.

Johan snorts in response. 

— Not as much as NA ones.

They giggle, and fall into a comfortable silence. It is still cold, but Séb feels like he’s getting used to it. Woollen sweater that was disgustingly itchy at first, now feels like a warm hug. The wind brings up salty air from the ocean, and somehow it gets easier to breathe with every passing second, as if a weight is being lifted from his shoulders and swept away to be crushed by waves in the distance.

— Did you come here often?

— In childhood, yeah. That was my mom trying to drag me away from video games, — Johan chuckles, — I used to hate it here, too cold, too boring, too quiet. Kinda grew on me, though.

Johan pauses to light a cigarette. Sébastien watches chiseled fingers bring it to his lips and his cheeks hollow out in an inhale before he lets out a cloud of smoke.

— Then teens. You kinda start to appreciate this stuff more with age, y’know? — he throws a glance at Sébastien, and looks back at the sea when he nods, — Even if you’re fifteen or sumthin’. So yeah. Even did our first bootcamp here with… 

He doesn’t finish, just waves his hand slightly and takes another drag.

Sébastien tries to ignore a slight pang in his chest. He knows it’s childish, comparing himself to Tal, envying him for being there first. It didn’t matter then, and sure as hell doesn’t matter now. He left, threw all those years and first bootcamps out of the window on a rainy Birmingham evening. Séb is here now, after picking up pieces the best he could, sitting on a bench on a half-deserted island in the middle of the ocean.

Maybe he tensed up too much, or maybe Johan is just that perceptive — but after Johan shifts on his place to get more comfortable, their knees are brushing.

They sit there, watching the wind beat up a waterfall, until Johan is done smoking, and then start their walk back to the car.


	2. fire

Johan is asleep when an alert chimes on his mobile phone and jerks him awake. With a grunt, he feels for the phone, and squints at the screen. It takes a while for his groggy brain to parse the message, but the second it does, Johan rushes out of the bed, sleep gone. He dresses, and runs across the hallway into the guest room, where Sébastien is lightly snoring on his bed. Johan drops to sit beside him, and Séb startles awake.

— Come on, man, get up, — Johan still nudges Séb’s shoulder for good measure, — We’re going on a road trip. 

— Johan? What… — Séb finds his phone and checks time, — _Va t’faire foutre_, it’s two in the morning, Johan, go to sleep.

Séb tries to cover himself up with a blanket and go back to sleep, but Johan grabs at the edge before he can do it.

— _Pleeeease_, Séb, — he whines, — You will love it, I promise.

Sébastien looks at him, and Johan tries to make his best impression of puppy eyes. In the end, Séb groans, and gets up.

* * *

The car comes around a sharp corner, emerging on top of a hill, and something must have caught Séb’s eye outside, because he leans sideways to look out of the window. When he stays that way, mouth open, Johan smiles to himself.

The moment Johan stops the car, Séb is pulling the door open to get out, not taking his eyes away from the sky. Johan cuts off the engine, turning off the lights, and world sinks into darkness. He gets out of the car, and joins Sébastien, who doesn’t pay any attention to him.

It’s funny, Johan thinks, that everyone keeps calling him a sunflower, when what he misses the most about living in the city is the night sky.

In here, the sky is a pitch black dome over their heads. It is so dark, that Johan feels dizzy looking up, as if they were surrounded a black hole you can fall into if you are not careful enough. There is a faint line of Milky Way above their heads, uneven at the edges, like a trail of spilled milk. Millions of stars are shimmering all over the place. 

And across everything, there are flashes of light, dancing, changing, like fire, like water, like smooth silks.

— Is that… — Sébastien doesn’t finish the sentence, absorbed in the show that is happening above their heads.

— Aurora borealis, yes, — Johan replies, leaning back on the bonnet of the car, hiding hands in the pockets of his jacket.

— It’s beautiful, — whispers Séb.

They sit on a warm bonnet, and watch the sky burn.

* * *

Eventually, aurora dies out. It was a long one, going on for almost ten minutes after they arrived. They’re still sitting together on a warm bonnet after the last flashes of light die away, knees touching, hands hidden deep in their pockets. 

Johan doesn’t even bother lying to himself. It’s all been for Sébastien. Dragging him to a deserted archipelago in the middle of the ocean in high season for northern lights, setting up alerts, hoping the right moment will come. Johan himself has seen a fair share of aurorae already, and while beautiful, they couldn’t compare to Sébastien’s reaction to them. Seeing him like this, completely open, overwhelmed by sheer force of nature, was worth everything — even enduring his sister’s teasing when he asked her for keys to the cabin. 

Séb is still watching the skies, his profile barely visible now. Johan thinks, that this might be the first time he sees the Milky Way in all its glory, painted above their heads with an old bristle brush. 

Sébastien turns his head to Johan, and his words are quiet, as if he is afraid to break the moment.

— Thank you. 

Johan looks at the sky. He always thought, that when this happens, it will feel like a levee breaking loose. Instead, he just feels like they’ve crossed a ridge, coming out on the other side of the passage. Same result, but much less destructive.

Johan turns to look at Séb. He hesitates for just a moment, but then leans in and brushes their lips in a soft kiss. 

— You’re welcome.

Johan enjoys the dumbfounded look at Séb’s face for a moment, and then looks back at the sky, grinning ear to ear, and a star winks at him.

* * *

They drive back home in comfortable silence, but the moment they get out of their coats inside, Sébastien crowds Johan’s space, forcing him to press his back to the door. Séb’s glasses fog up at the temperature change, and he removes them with an annoyed huff. Johan rarely sees those beautiful hazel eyes without a protective shield of glass, and every time he does, he feels like he’s about to drown.

Séb brings a hand up to stroke Johan’s cheekbone, and Johan shivers at the touch of cold fingers. He can’t look away, can’t move, can’t even _breathe_ as he sees how Sébastien’s eyes dart down from his eyes and back. Séb cradles his cheek, thumb ghosting over his lips and coming to rest on the dimple on his chin.

— Do you really mean it? — Séb doesn’t wait for Johan’s response before continuing, — One word, and we go to sleep and pretend this never happened. Because if not…

Séb’s eyes are serious, and there’s so much raw emotion in his voice, that Johan feels like he was punched in the gut. He swallows and blinks involuntarily, but doesn’t look away. He puts hands on Séb’s waist, sliding tips of his fingers underneath the warm layers, making Séb’s breath hitch, pulling him closer.

— I do, Séb, — Johan’s voice sounds rough even to himself, — I really do.

Whatever Sébastien has been looking for in his eyes, he seems to have found it, because he closes his eyes and leans in. It’s a chaste kiss, a tender brush of lips, but Johan’s heart skips a beat. Séb pulls back with a shaky exhale, eyes closed, but he’s back the next second, more confident, tongue licking at Johan’s lips, prodding him to open his mouth. Johan obeys, and maybe it _does_ feel like a levee breaking loose, after all.

They are kissing hungrily, swallowing away each other’s breathless gasps. Short stubble is rough underneath Johan’s lips, and soon they feel raw and tender, but Sébastien kisses away all the pain. 

They find their way to Séb’s bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes along the way, like in some cheesy romcom movie. They have seen each other’s bodies before, but not like this, never like this. Sébastien is holding Johan close by the waist, his other hand cradling Johan’s face, long fingers caressing the sweet spot behind his ear. Johan feels himself getting lost in the touches, in the feeling of hot slender body pressed to his own, in desperate kisses and the raw feeling of _need_. 

Sébastien drags his hand down Johan’s spine, nails leaving marks behind, and Johan’s head falls back in a silent moan. 

— God, — he rasps, when Sébastien sucks at the pulse point on his neck, starting to work on his belt. 

— No, that’s just me, — Séb looks up at Johan with a cheeky grin. Johan huffs a laugh and wants to smack Séb on the chest, but Sébastien catches his hand, and Johan’s breath hitches. He stares at their hands, elegant fingers circling his wrist, holding it in place. Johan can feel his own pulse beat underneath Séb’s fingers, and when Séb squeezes just a bit tighter, he almost whimpers.

When Johan raises his eyes, he sees Sébastien looking at him with a curious expression on his face, as if he stumbled upon something he didn’t expect. Séb drags fingers of his other hand up Johan’s chest all the way to his neck, and gently wraps the hand around Johan’s throat.

Johan doesn’t even think about it, his body moving on his own. His eyes fall shut, and he leans into Séb’s hand.

— Merde, _Johan_, — he hears Sébastien murmur with wonder, when Johan goes limp at the touch. Séb squeezes his hand slightly, and uses it as a leverage to drag Johan in for a kiss. It’s lazy and unhurried, Sébastien taking his time, biting and licking at Johan’s sore lips, his other hand caressing Johan’s back, holding him close. 

Johan feels like he made a misstep and is falling into the endless sky. 

He just hopes Séb will be there to catch him. 

Sébastien pulls away with a shaky sigh, and nuzzles his nose on Johan’s cheek.

— Tell me what you want, — he whispers into their shared air, lips ghosting over Johan’s skin. His hand is still on Johan’s throat, forcing him to look up, and Johan can’t think, can barely breathe, every cell in his body screaming for one thing.

— _You_. 

— Oh, _ma fleur_, — sighs Séb into the skin at the crook of Johan’s neck, his hand sliding down from Johan’s back to pull at the hem of his trousers, — You’ve got that a long time ago. 

Johan doesn’t really notice how Séb gets them out of the rest of their clothes. They fall on the bed, Sébastien spooning him, arm going around Johan’s neck to sprawl on his chest, protective and possessive. Séb is planting sloppy kisses on the side of Johan’s neck and shoulder, fingertips of his free hand ghosting over Johan’s hipbone and ribs. Every touch leaves a trail of goosebumps on Johan’s body, and every kiss feels like a touch of fire.

Séb reaches somewhere, and Johan hears sound of a lid popping open. 

— You brought _lube_ with you? — he chuckles in disbelief, but his laugh turns into a rasped moan when Séb wraps slick fingers around his achingly hard cock.

— You don’t seem to mind, — Séb sounds smug as he starts stroking, squeezing more on the way to the tip, relaxing his hand on the way back. With a soft moan, Johan looks down, and the sight of long fingers working on his dick steals his breath away. Sébastien’s movements are slow and precise, making Johan gasp in pleasure.

Sébastien nuzzles at the hair behind Johan’s ear, and licks along the line of his auricle, sending shivers down his spine.

— You are so beautiful like this, — whispers Séb and bites at the crook of Johan’s neck, smoothing away sharp pain with a kiss. His hand on Johan’s cock is moving in a steady rhythm, and it’s nice, but it’s not enough. 

— Fuck me, Séb, — words leave Johan’s mouth involuntarily, born somewhere deep inside his gut, dragged to the surface by Sébastien’s touches. He’s done this once or twice out of sheer curiosity and never thought he’d do it again, but in this moment, surrounded by Séb’s warmth and smell, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Sébastien goes still and Johan hears him make a sharp inhale, but then Séb removes hand from his cock, and Johan feels a tip of a finger circle around his entrance. Johan groans, and arches his back to open up more.

— _God_, look at you, — Séb murmurs into his ear, still not pushing the finger inside all the way, playing around the ring of muscle, causing Johan’s dick to twitch, — Practically _begging_ for it. You’re just full of secrets, Johan Sundstein. 

— _Fuck_, Séb, — Johan groans as he feels himself getting lost in the midst of sensations, — And _you’re_ full of shit, get the hell on with it, you bloody Frenchman.

Sébastien chuckles, but takes pity on him and pushes tip of the finger inside, making Johan gasp. He rocks it slightly back and forth, going deeper each time. Johan thinks about the long fingers working on stretching him, pushing in, disappearing inside, and when Sébastien finds the sweet spot, Johan is gone, his whole existence collapsing into a single point of intense pleasure. 

Séb is moving deliberately and without hurry, and it drives Johan _crazy_, even if some remote part of his brain is grateful for it. Sébastien seems to be savouring every moment and his every moan, adding fingers one by one, each time waiting for Johan to relax completely before going further.

By the time Séb removes his hand, Johan is a gasping mess. He feels like he’s standing on the edge, and there’s only one step left to fall, but Sébastien doesn’t allow him to do it, always pulling him back in the last second. It feels infuriating, and it feels so good.

Johan’s breath hitches when Séb pushes the head of his cock inside. He feels slight burn as muscles stretch to let him in, and then a raising wave of pleasure as Séb starts to slowly rock his hips back and forth, going deeper on each thrust. Johan groans, arches his back, and rolls more to his stomach to give Séb more room. 

He hears a soft moan when Séb is buried all the way in. Sébastien leans in to lick sweat from his shoulder blade, pulls his cock out, and slowly slides back in. 

Johan swears under his breath. He feels helpless, Sébastien pinning him to the mattress with his weight, his dick buried balls-deep inside Johan’s ass. The thought alone is intoxicating. Séb makes another thrust, the movement causing Johan’s cock to rub on the mattress, and he moans, hiding his face in the pillow. 

Séb gives him time to adjust, and then picks up the pace. Soon he’s fucking Johan in earnest, sliding out almost completely and pounding back in, using a hand on Johan’s hip as a leverage to pull him closer and go deeper.

Johan is trembling. He has forgotten how good it can feel, the burn of the stretch, the feeling of _fullness_, and every once in a while — a burst of intense pleasure, when the angle is _just right_. 

He can’t even moan anymore, his mouth agape in silent pleasure. He’s leaking on the bedsheets, so hard he’s sure he might come from a single touch to his cock.

— Is this what you wanted? — Sébastien asks, slightly breathless, his lips ghosting over sensitive spot under Johan’s ear, making Johan shiver, — To get fucked into the mattress, hm?

— _Fuck_, yes, — Johan rasps, as his fingers clutch helplessly at the sheets. He feels a tight ball of nerves forming in the pit of his stomach, — God, _Séb_, I gonna come.

Sébastien chuckles, and his hand around Johan’s throat tightens just a little bit, making Johan gasp for breath. He sounds dark, and dangerous, and so unlike the usual Séb, that Johan feels hairs on his hands stand up.

— No, you’re not. Not until I let you, _mon chéri_. 

Johan almost sobs. It is too much, and it is not enough. He wants to come, and he doesn’t want this to end. Séb, being a bloody genius that he is, found the perfect angle, and his dick keeps brushing Johan’s prostate on every thrust, making him silently whimper. 

It is a game, Johan knows, a challenge, to let yourself go, to surrender completely. To admit you’re at someone else’s mercy, and let this feeling wash over you, taking away your fears and leaving only trust behind. 

Johan always trusted Séb, completely and unquestioningly, which is why he is now here, sprawled on top of crumpled bedsheets, free for Sébastien to take as much as he pleases. 

Johan loses all sense of time, his whole existence a blurred fog of pleasure. At last, Sébastien wraps fingers around his cock again, leans in, and rasps: 

— Come for me, love.

Orgasm hits Johan like a crushing wave, leaving him gasping for air. He doesn’t even know, what hits him most: physical sensation, or the accidental confession made in the most vulnerable moment. Séb comes with a soft moan, face buried in the crook of Johan’s neck, strong arms pulling him close. 

They lie in darkness, sweaty and breathless, sound of their ragged breaths the only thing breaking the silence. Johan feels boneless, his whole body heavy in a way that tells him it will be deliciously sore the next morning. Sébastien is pressed to him head to toes, wrapped around Johan like a warm breathing blanket. Johan feels his consciousness start to drift away.

He’s half asleep when Séb gets up to fetch a damp towel and cleans them up. Johan waits for him to get back into bed, and buries his nose in the crook of Séb’s neck, planting there a gentle kiss in silent thanks.

Outside, the dawn breaks.


	3. water

Séb wakes up to soft clatter of dishes in the kitchen. A strip of morning light is falling on the bed from a gap between curtains, and makes his nose feel tingly. He makes a face and rolls over to other side, burying face in the pillow, drinking in faint lingering smell of Johan.

Johan kissed him. The thought comes out of nowhere, and Séb’s eyes fly open. Johan kissed him, like it was the most natural thing in the world to do, and apparently is now busy in the kitchen, as if nothing happened. 

Séb feels a grin start to spread on his face, and he sits, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A faint smell of fresh coffee reaches him, like a foggy hand from an old cartoon. 

Séb squints around for his glasses, and finds them on a bed stand. He doesn’t remember putting them there, events of the previous night a blur that tugs pleasantly at the bottom of his stomach if he thinks about it long enough. He grabs some spare clothes, and gets up.

Plain wooden floor is warm under his naked feet as he pads over to the kitchen. 

Johan is standing by the counter, waiting for the coffee to brew. Séb comes from behind, and wraps himself around Johan, hands coming to rest on his stomach, chest pressed to his spine. He plants a kiss on the back of Johan’s neck, smiling in the soft skin at the way Johan shivers. 

— Morning, — murmurs Sébastien. 

— Morning, _elskede_, — Johan covers Séb’s hands with his own, and leans back into the touch, — Slept well? 

— Mhmm, — Séb just sighs contently and buries his face in the crook of Johan’s neck, drinking in the smell: tobacco, something sweet, and a faint echo of sex. He feels more than hears Johan chuckle, a low rumble resonating deep in his chest. 

— Nature and fresh air do that to you, — says Johan, smile in his voice. 

— Pretty sure that’s not what it was, — Sébastien sucks the pulse point on Johan’s neck, and slides one of his hands underneath his t-shirt. Johan smacks in playfully. 

— A-a! Coffee, and we need to go for a supply run, there’s literally _nothing_ to eat in this house, and I am _starving_.

— I can think of several things to eat, if you know what I mean, — Séb steps away to lean on the tabletop, and wiggles his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, laughing at the face Johan makes. 

He accepts a cup of coffee, takes a sip, and feels the happiest he has in a long time.

* * *

Johan chatters away in Danish with a cheerful blond girl behind the counter, who is absolutely charmed, judging by slight blush in her cheeks and nervous laughs. Séb is standing nearby with a polite smile on his face, only now understanding in full, how did Johan feel during all those Disneyland Major interviews. 

He can hear a familiar sounding word here and there, but overall speech is just rolling around him, like a waterfall. Johan sounds strangely softer, less like an energetic puppy and more like a seasoned wolfhound, soft es-ses and rolling ar-s flowing easily off his tongue. 

Séb’s mind wanders to tales about trolls and long forgotten gods that he used to read as a child. There is something strange about this ancient place, it manages to drag deeply buried thoughts out in the daylight, and leaves you to deal with them.

Johan startles him by pressing one of the bags into his hand. 

— _Tusind tak_, — says Johan to the cashier with a smile, and turns to the door, holding it open for Séb, who exits with an awkward wave at the girl. 

Johan is pulling out of the parking lot, when Sébastien speaks.

— She looked quite flustered, looking at you.

Johan laughs, sincere, happy sound coming from his belly, and throws Séb a glance.

— Feeling jealous?

— Feeling lucky.

Johan’s grin turns into a soft smile. 

— We were actually talking about you, — he admits, continuing when he notices Séb staring at him incredulously, — Yeah, she was wondering whether a pretty Frenchman needs a guide to show him around.

Johan throws another glance at Séb, and when he speaks again, his voice is low and dark.

— Told her we’ve got that covered.

A warm feeling pours from somewhere around Séb’s chest all over his body, and he looks out of the window to hide a soft smile.

* * *

Johan lets them in, and drops the keys in a small bowl on a table by the door. They put away groceries, crack open beers, and start on dinner. Neither are particularly good at cooking, but throwing a bunch of stuff in the oven is something even they can manage. 

They eat, and sprawl on the coach with another round of beers, nibbling at pieces of ræst that Sébastien eyed with distrust at first, but actually liked after Johan persuaded him to try a piece. The taste reminds him of some of the stronger blue cheeses, and makes him think of home. 

Sébastien used to dread coming back from bootcamps and tournaments, his small apartment ringing with silence after having several people around all the time.

After having Johan around all the time.

Sébastien allows himself to hope, that maybe it won’t be as bad now.

He empties the bottle in a large gulp, and gets up.

— I’ll hit the shower, — he bends over and lands a peck on Johan’s lips, taking pleasure in the simple fact of being allowed to do so, — Join me? Will save some water on this rock or yours.

Johan laughs.

— Very smooth, man, — he returns the kiss, — Later, ’kay? I wanna get the fireplace going, think it might get chilly later.

Séb nods, and walks away in the direction of the bathroom. Whoever built this house has his eternal gratitude, because the pressure is amazing, and hot water never seems to run out. Séb has no idea how this whole thing works, but it seems like a big deal on such a remote island.

He get undressed, steps under the hot water, and sighs.

These islands are starting to grow on him, but deep inside he still likes the heat more. Maybe it’s his Lebanese heritage showing, he thinks, as he allows hot water run down his body.

He hears the bathroom door open, and soon Johan snuggles up to him from behind, gently kissing the back of his neck. Sébastien sighs and tilts his head forward, and Johan chuckles.

— Sensitive spot, eh? — he asks, and Sébastien shivers at the feeling of Johan’s breath on his skin.

— Yeah, — his voice sounds rough, and he clears his throat, — Very much so. 

Strong fingers slide through his hair, pulling his head under water, massaging tender skin, and Sébastien allows himself to get lost in the sensation. He thinks about the same fingers trembling, clutching desperately at the bedsheets yesterday, so different from what they are now. 

Séb gets it, though. Sometimes you feel like you’re falling, and you need someone to catch you. 

Johan grabs a bottle of shampoo and soaps up his head, careful not to get any in the ears. His touch is gentle, but firm, and Sébastien is melting under those fingers. Johan washes out soap, and starts massaging temples, his thumbs anchored in that sweet spot in the back of Sébastien’s neck. He moves up, stroking Séb’s scalp, making him sigh in pleasure. Johan runs a whole palm though his hair, ruffling it up and releasing.

— Do you like this? — Johan’s voice is low, a deep rumble that resonates with Séb all the way through his bones. 

— Yeah, — suddenly Sébastien is aware, how close they are in a small space, Johan pressed to him almost head to toe. He gasps, when Johan grabs a fistful of his hair, and pulls it back, forcing him to open up his neck. 

— What if I do it like this? — Johan’s breath is hot on Séb’s ear, and he feels his cock twitch.

— Fuck, — breathes out Sébastien, and he feels Johan smile into his skin as he kisses Séb’s neck.

— Thought so. This hair is just meant to be pulled, isn’t it? — Johan lets go for a second, smoothing the skin with a gentle rub before grabbing another handful and yanking it down, causing Sébastien to whimper, — Tell me, darling, what else do you like?

Séb can barely think, his brain coming to a complete stop. 

— Blowjobs, — he manages to whisper after several seconds. Johan humms, and his free hand comes to play with Séb’s nipple, another one still holding him in place by his hair.

— Giving or taking? — Johan sounds almost clinically curious, as if his hands aren’t driving Sébastien mad at this very moment. 

— Both, — Sébastien almost sobs when Johan slides his hand down, wraps fingers around Séb’s now fully erect cock, and starts stroking. Johan drags teeth across his collarbone before sucking hard at the crook of his neck, and Séb’s hips twitch involuntarily, seeking more friction. Johan yanks his hair back, stopping the strokes, keeping his hand hovering just above the skin of Séb’s cock.

— No-no-no, _elskede_, doesn’t work like that. Either I do it, and you stay _very_ still, or you do it yourself, — he drags a finger across the length of Sébastien’s leaking dick, teasingly rubbing it on the slit, — So which one is it?

— You do it, — Séb’s voice is barely audible, but apparently it is enough for Johan, because he starts stroking again, — _Fuck_, Johan.

— I can do that too, if you’d like to, — Séb whimpers, and has to fight the urge to move his hips with every single cell in his body. Johan must have noticed, it, too, because he lets the fist in his hair loose and pets his head, before pulling at it again in a slightly different place, — You’re doing so well. I might take my time with you, as you did with me yesterday. You know this point, when it becomes so much that pain and pleasure come together and you can’t really tell one from the other?

Séb knows. He loves walking this edge, not letting himself fall until the very last possible second. He’s getting closer to that point with every movement of Johan’s hand.

— I might just let you come when you feel like it, though, — Johan sounds unperturbed, his voice calm in Séb’s ear, as if he isn’t reducing Séb to a trembling mess under his hands, — If you ask nicely. 

Séb always knew Johan had darker side in him. It came out every now and then, in a broken keyboard, a murderous glare, or a particularly vicious tweet. He never was on a receiving side before, and now that he is — it feels deliciously sinful. He can feel a knot build up in his stomach, and it is getting harder and harder to stay still, but he doesn’t dare to move, because he is sure that the moment he does, Johan will stop and he will be left alone to jerk himself off. 

— Johan, _please_, — Séb is so far gone he can barely find words. 

— Please what? 

Sébastien groans, helpless.

— Please let me come.

Johan chuckles, and sucks on his earlobe. 

— Alright. Let it go, Sébastien.

Séb does. Orgasm hits him out of nowhere, knocking breath out of his chest, forcing it to come out in a breathless moan. Johan strokes him through the aftershocks until he flinches at the sensitivity, and then embraces Séb, landing soft kisses on the back of his neck and between shoulder blades. 

Séb turns around, and catches Johan’s mouth with his own, hands coming up to cradle Johan’s face. He reaches out without looking and grabs a sponge, soaps it up, and runs it along Johan’s spine. Johan’s eyes flutter close, and he leans back into the touch.

Somehow this feels more intimate than everything they’ve managed to do before. They’re standing under the shower stream, pressed chest to chest, kissing slowly, deeply. Séb washes Johan’s shoulders, drags the sponge down his back, marvelling at the feeling of muscles rolling underneath his hands. Soaps up strong arms, and when he breaks the kiss to move to the chest, he sees that Johan’s pupils are blown so wide that his eyes look almost black.

Séb drags the sponge lower, moving from Johan’s chest to his stomach, and pauses there for a second, before almost dropping to his knees. 

Johan is hard, and there is a drop of precum sitting at the exposed head of his cock. Séb’s mouth waters at the sight, but he swallows, and starts soaping up Johan’s legs, deliberately not touching the place he is sure Johan would love to be touched the most now.

Once he’s done, Séb gets up, and turns off the shower. He steps out to grab a towel, and motions Johan to come outside, too.

— Did you get the fireplace going? — he asks, enveloping Johan in lush softness, mentally sending his thanks again to whomever was stocking up the house. Johan nods silently, as Sébastien dries him out, his eyes closed, expression a strange mixture between arousal and complete relaxation. 

Séb quickly pats himself down, throws towel on the floor, and offers Johan a hand in a half-bow. Johan quirks an eyebrow, but the corners of his mouth twitch, and he accepts the hand with a look of a drama queen.

When they come back to the living room, it’s already dark outside. Logs are crackling in the fireplace, and the fire paints everything in warm yellow. 

Johan drops himself on the sofa, dragging Séb down to sit on his lap. His eyes catch reflections of the fire and light up with pure gold, and Sébastien thinks that this, right here, is the most beautiful sight on all the Faroe Islands.

He doesn’t think he will ever get tired of kissing those lips, soft and sensual under his touch. Johan drags hands down his spine, and Sébastien arches back into the touch with a soft sigh. He imagines riding Johan like that, sinking slowly on his cock, revelling in the feeling of fullness, watching those beautiful eyes change colour from gold to black.

Instead, he slides from Johan’s lap to the floor in one fluid motion, and swallows him whole. He hears Johan gasp in surprise, and smiles to himself, as his tongue encircles the head and he sinks deeper, before pulling back and repeating the motion.

Johan moans, and brings a hand to Séb’s head. Sébastien humms approvingly, and Johan pushes him down, making him gag on his cock, before tugging at his hair and forcing him to look up.

— God, you’re so pretty, — Johan’s voice is barely a whisper, — Do you want me to fuck you in the mouth? 

Sébastien feels his cock twitch at those words, and just nods. Johan makes a sharp inhale, before nodding slightly, and bringing his other hand to Séb’s hair. Sébastien understands the hint, and takes Johan’s cock back in his mouth. 

Johan allows him to get used to the size and feeling of having his mouth full of throbbing flesh, before grabbing him by the back of his head and holding him in place, as he starts moving his hips. Séb feels the head of Johan’s cocks brush the back of his throat, and he tries to constrict the muscles in the back to give it more friction. Johan moans, and his movements grow faster.

Séb feels tears come to his eyes, and he blinks them away, letting them fall down his cheeks. He’s hard again, and he wraps fingers around his cock, trying to match strokes with Johan’s thrusts in his mouth. 

His throat feels sore, and his lips start aching, when he hears Johan’s breath change. Johan’s cock grows slightly bigger, and he pushes it all the way in Sébastien’s mouth before coming. Séb chokes on the liquid, but Johan doesn’t let him pull away, coming down Sébastien’s throat with a groan.

Séb continues sucking as Johan’s slacking cock until Johan pulls him back to sit in his lap. He reaches up for a kiss, and Séb meets him halfway, allowing Johan’s tongue to smooth away the pain. His breath hitches, when Johan wraps a hand around his erection and starts stroking. 

— Guess you didn’t lie about the blowjobs, — murmurs Johan into the kiss, his free hand coming around Sébastien’s waist. 

Séb’s breathing is coming out in short rasps, and he breaks the kiss and brings his forehead to rest on Johan’s. His hips twitch, and the next moment he’s coming, spilling warm liquid on Johan’s stomach, who covers his face with gentle kisses.

Sébastien is still breathing heavily, when he opens his eyes. Johan is staring at him with a mixture of love and worry, and brings a hand to wipe away traces of tears on his cheeks. He opens his mouth to say something, but Séb shushes him by cradling his face and kissing him.

He kisses Johan with all the love and tenderness he felt throughout those years, trying to confess everything without saying a word, and Johan must feel it, because he makes a small sound in the back of his throat, and holds Séb even closer.


	4. coda

He could get used to this, Johan thinks. Waking up early, starting up coffee. Sébastien coming to join him with his cheap _calembours_, leaning on a tabletop and sipping from his mug, looking ten years younger without his glasses and carefully styled hair. No endless games. No exhausting flights. No bootcamps full of other team members.

Just them.

The rest of their vacation passes in peace and quiet. They have coffee, pack some breakfast, and go hiking. In the end, Séb has grown to like the grim weather, too. Even he had to admit, that it suits this place.

They found a nice little place in Tórshavn where they go to have dinner. One of the waitresses seemed to have recognised them, judging by the look on her face, but the only thing that came out of it was a miraculously free table every evening when they stopped by. Neither of them said anything, and if on their last visit they left behind a signed postcard with a sheep — well, they can be forgetful sometimes, too.

They spend evenings by the fireplace, Sébastien laying with his head in Johan’s lap, watching a movie or playing something that’s not Dota for once on an old console.

And at nights, they lay in bed, squeezed together, sharing a pillow, breathing the same air. Soft light coming from a small window makes everything seem ethereal. 

Some days they make love. Now that urgency and impatience is gone, they take their time exploring each other’s bodies, drinking in soft sighs with gentle kisses.

And some days they just chat about everything, hushed words sprinkled with heartfelt laughs and muffled giggles. 

Today, as they fall in a comfortable silence, Johan hears Sébastien take a deep breath. 

— I don’t think I want to play anymore.

Words are quiet, spoken to the ceiling, as if Séb is afraid of his reaction. A corner of Johan’s mouth twitches.

— Okay, — he replies simply.

He hears soft rustle, as Séb turns on his side to face him.

— You don’t seem surprised. 

Johan shrugs. 

— Because I’m not. Kinda felt it. Something… Something was off about you these past months, ever since we won. That’s why I dragged you here, thought peace and quiet will help you to understand. There’s just something about this place, y’know, — he smiles and glances at Séb, who smiles in return. 

Johan looks back up and pauses, before taking a deep breath. 

— I think, Jesse will retire, too. I haven’t heard from him in a while, — Johan turns his head to Séb with a soft smile, — And maybe Ana too, though I’m not sure about him. 

He sees Sébastien’s face change, and Johan can bet he’s also thinking about Birmingham, can see it in his eyes. It’s been years, but some cuts never truly heal.

— I can… — Séb starts, but falls silent when Johan presses a finger to his lips.

— Uh-huh. Remember, what this team is about, was _always_ supposed to be about, — Johan pauses for a moment, — I know you can. I know you _will_, if I ask you. But I don’t want you to sacrifice your happiness for the sake of mine. 

Séb kisses the tip of the finger still laying on his lips, and Johan smiles. 

— Guess, me and Topias will have to do. 

— I was thinking of coaching, so I will be there, too, — offers Séb, and Johan kisses him with a laugh.

— I know you will. No way in hell you will miss all the fun. 

**Author's Note:**

> _I'm killin' life like a one-way ticket to hell  
I'm on a high, goin' down, down, down  
I wanna wipe that sad, sad feeling away  
Down, down, down, down, down, down_
> 
> [Foxy Shazam - Killin' It](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8bH19z8muQ)


End file.
